It's Not Food Poisoning
by misskaterinab
Summary: Blaine has severe stomach pains and blames it on bad street vendor food. But the street vendor is innocent. An "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" story. Mpreg.


_T_ he loft was never quite quiet at night. The downstairs tenants were night owls and liked to watch old Game Show Network shows on repeat, screaming the answers to questions answered long ago many times over. The people in the building opposite them were a couple who probably should've broken up years ago; they had an affinity for conducting their knock-down, drag out fights in front of their open bedroom window, which was definitely nowhere near far enough from Kurt and Blaine's "bedroom" window, especially when you figured the woman's extremely shrill voice into the equation.

But on a hot summer night in the middle of July, the main source of the nightly cacophony was centered in the tastefully decorated apartment of Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel. The place was nearly empty - Kurt had flown to his hometown of Lima, Ohio, three days before to pay a visit to his father and stepmother. It was the anniversary of his brother's passing and Kurt felt the need to be near his family. Finances being what they were, the pair could only afford to purchase one plane ticket and Blaine stayed at home to hold down the fort.

"Fuck, I should've never eaten that sausage from that street vendor," Blaine moaned to himself. He lay on his side in bed, curled up into the fetal position, and clutched his stomach, praying for the shooting pain in his stomach to subside. "I _thought_ it smelled a little funny."

After a few moments, the pain faded some, and Blaine was able to sit himself up in bed. He grabbed a tissue and mopped off his sweaty forehead. He took a minute to sit silently and monitor his vitals before deciding that yes, he would be okay to shuffle off to the bathroom. Blaine thought it a bit weird that he probably had food poisoning but didn't really feel like throwing up, but he didn't have any other explanation for the pain in his belly.

Blaine took a few swigs of cool water from the bathroom tap, conducted a little business while he was near the toilet, and made his way back to bed. He straightened the sheets, flipped his pillow over to the cool side, and lay back down, praying for the Sandman's quick return.

"Ouch, DAMMIT. What the hell?" Another pain shot through his stomach, the intensity slightly increased from last time. It took about the same amount of time to chill out as the one previous, but Blaine was beginning to become concerned.

"God, I wish Kurt was here." Kurt always seemed to know what to do when something was wrong. Whether it was cheesecake for a bad day or his highly honed Florence Nightingale impression for when someone was ill, Kurt always had a level head and a solution for everything. He gave the best hugs in the world, too, and boy could Blaine use one now.

Blaine lay in bed, silently suffering from pains that were getting worse and more and more frequent as the minutes ticked by. He was forced to make a decision: call the NYU nurse line, or throw in the towel and make his way to the emergency room.

He stood to go grab his phone from the charger that was plugged in across the room when his entire being was taken down by a pain that brought him to his knees. "Goddamn motherfucker!" he cursed, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. That was the worst one yet.

The nurse line couldn't help with this one, he decided, and there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to tolerate the subway long enough to get to the hospital. Hell, he was pretty sure he wasn't even going to be able to make it to the street to hail a cab. He crawled the last few feet to his phone, grateful for a full charge, and called 911.

After telling the operator his problem and being assured that an ambulance would be at his door shortly, he took advantage of the brief time between debilitating pains to grab his messenger bag and toss a few things in it. Wallet, charger, phone, insurance card, favorite picture of Kurt - it all went in. He put in a change of clothes and shoes and changed himself into a t-shirt and PJ pants that weren't quite as ratty as the ones he had worn to bed. He had a little pride, but not much, at this point. That was the best it was going to get.

The ambulance arrived and the EMTs bustled around, strapping him to the stretcher and loading him up into the vehicle. Just as they were questioning him on his symptoms, a particularly vicious pain tore through his abdomen. "That answer your questions?" he snarled.

Thankfully the ride to the hospital was short and soon he was being checked into an examining room. He endured several more instances of near-agonizing pain before a doctor finally made his way around to Blaine.

"It's about fucking time," Blaine grumped under his breath.

"Hello, Mr..." the doctor said, checking his chart. "Anderson! I'm Dr. Green. I see you're having some discomfort in your stomach tonight?"

Blaine scoffed. "If by discomfort you mean feeling like someone's ripping apart your insides with a dull rusty butter knife, then yes, I'm experiencing some discomfort - AAGH FUCK!" He curled up into a ball on the bed he had been placed on and panted through the duration of the pain. "Please, doc," Blaine said weakly. "You've gotta help me. I feel like I'm gonna die."

"I see that. Well, let me take an ultrasound of your stomach - often an obstruction somewhere along the line can cause this sort of episode." He stepped away from Blaine for a few moments and came back, rolling in a small machine. "This is our portable ultrasound. I don't want to jiggle you around too much unnecessarily, so while this isn't the clearest picture available, it should give us an idea. If not, then we'll think about other tests. Lift up your shirt for me, will you?"

Blaine obeyed quietly, and the doctor busied himself with squirting a dollop of goopy gel on Blaine's stomach.

"Well, that's not exactly an obstruction," Dr. Green said, slightly amused. "Tell me, Blaine. Do you participate in anal intercourse with other men?"

"Um, yes? But what does - "

"Receiving?" The doctor pressed on.

"Yeah - I don't see why you -"

"Well, that explains it. You're pregnant, Blaine. With a full term baby. And those pains you've been having are contractions. This baby wants out, and it wants out NOW. Now we're going to have to -"

"Wait, wait, wait a minute, here, doc. Back the train up a moment. Pregnant? I'm a MAN. How in the hell is that possible?"

"Science is still a bit baffled right now as to the hows at this point, Blaine, but we're starting to see the instances of pregnant males increasing in frequency over the last ten years. It hasn't been often enough to tip off the general public, but the medical community is aware of it."

Blaine flopped back against the pillow on the bed in shock. Pregnant? A baby? Jesus. What next?

"Um, okay, so what do we do now?"

The doctor waited while Blaine breathed through another contraction. When it had passed, he said, "Well, obviously the baby has nowhere to go, and now that it's done growing, we need to get it out of you, ASAP, by c-section, or there will be serious health risks to both of you. Now, Blaine, I've got a couple of papers I have to have you sign before we wheel you in, and I need to warn you that, while our surgeons have performed hundreds of Caesareans on women, we've never had the opportunity to do one on a man. I'm referring you to our best doctor on staff, who has thousands of hours of delicate surgeries under his belt, so I have the utmost confidence that you'll be fine. However, since we haven't quite figured out exactly how it works in men, there's always a risk that we might damage something that's necessary for you to be able to carry other children, hence the waiver I'll be giving you. Do you have any questions for me?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "Just one. Can I have a few moments to call my boyfriend?"

"Certainly. It'll take me a couple minutes to get the proper forms and to call up to the OR to have them prepare for you. I'll give you a few moments of privacy." Dr. Green walked briskly out of the room, and Blaine took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Since it had been a few minutes since his last contraction, Blaine waited til he had another one and then quickly called Kurt. He didn't want to have to explain over the phone, but he didn't want to frighten Kurt either.

He dialed, and Kurt picked up within one ring. "Blaine, hi honey! I miss you! How are you doing?"

"Kurt, can you come home? Now?"

"Blaine, what's wrong?"

"I - I just need you here. And I have something to tell you. To show you, really."

"Well, okay... I guess. I didn't want to leave Dad and Carole so soon, but I guess I could..." Blaine could hear clicking in the background, and he guessed that Kurt had stepped over to his laptop to make travel arrangements.

"Believe me, you are going to want to be here for this as soon as possible."

"Okay, I can get on a flight in three and a half hours. Is that going to be soon enough?"

"Yes, baby, thank you. And when you get here, take a cab to Bellevue - I'll be here waiting."

"BELLEVUE? As in the hospital? Blaine!"

"It's okay, Kurt, I'm not dying, and neither is anyone else, but I really need you to come here right away." Blaine felt another contraction coming on and clenched his jaw. "I gotta go," he said through his teeth. "Love you bye." Once he hit the disconnect button on his phone, he allowed a stream of groans and curse words to fill the air around him.

Dr. Green poked his head through the curtain around Blaine's bed. "Sounds like someone's ready to go have a baby!" he said cheekily.

"Just give me the damn papers," Blaine snapped. He hastily scrawled his signature at each place the doctor pointed out.

"All right, _Daddy,_ " Dr. Green said. "I'll have someone get you up to the OR and we'll put you out of your misery." He chuckled, earning a dirty look from Blaine, and strode purposefully out of the room again.

Blaine's mind was going a mile a minute. A _baby,_ he thought. What the hell are we going to do with a baby?

He guessed he was going to find out.

Kurt hadn't stopped fussing, fidgeting, worrying, or fretting since the second Blaine had hung up with him. After tossing his belongings back into his carryon haphazardly, he hitched a ride to the airport from his dad and, with moments to spare, made it through airport security and onto his flight. He was certain he annoyed the hell out of his seatmates (due to the late flight change, he got stuck in the middle of a row), but he just didn't give a damn. Blaine, the love of his life, took precedence over everything, including the discomfort of his fellow flyers, and they were just going to have to deal.

After finally making it into the airport (seriously, could people deplane ANY. ?), Kurt practically ran to the cab stand and slid into the first taxi he could find. He was very thankful he was coming into the city at an off hour; at a different time of day, it would be gridlock for hours.

Kurt threw an exorbitant amount of money at the cabbie and clambered out of the cab, nearly forgetting his bag. He grabbed it and flew in the doors of the hospital where he was stopped by a young woman at the information desk.

"Can I help you, sir?" she said entirely too cheerfully for Kurt's taste.

"I'm looking for my boyfriend - Blaine Anderson?"

"Certainly, just a moment." She tapped away at the keyboard in front of her and frowned at the screen.

"It say here he's on the fifth floor in D wing, but I'm not sure that's correct. Here, let me try again - "

Kurt was already on his way to the elevator ahead of him, calling out his thanks over his shoulder as he rushed to jump in the car whose doors were already starting to close. The occupants of the elevator scowled at their last moment newcomer, but Kurt ignored them, poking the 5 button more times than was necessary.

The elevator stopped at every single floor, and Kurt was nearly going out of his mind. Blaine had told him no one was dying, but worst case scenarios kept going through his head.

On the fifth floor, Kurt burst through the doors of the elevator and looked toward the wall for directions to the D wing. A wing: cardiology. B wing: psychiatry. C wing: neurology. D wing: maternity.

Maternity?

What the actual fuck?

No wonder the receptionist on the ground floor was confused. He probably should've stuck around to get more information. Not having any better ideas, he followed the signs to D wing, figuring he would get better directions there.

The nurse on duty at the doorway to the D wing was dressed in pastel scrubs covered in storks. She greeted him with a soft voice and a smile. Kurt figured she was probably great with the babies.

"Hi, um, I'm looking for my boyfriend? The receptionist said he was here but I think something must've gotten messed up in the system?"

"Oh, no, if you're who I think you are, you're in the right place! Blaine sent word with his nurse that we should be expecting a... " She checked her notes. "Kurt Hummel?"

"Yes, that's me, but why?"

"Blaine asked that we not give out any information on him, not that we would - HIPAA laws, you know? But let me bring you to him. I promise all will be explained when you get there, okay?"

Kurt nodded wordlessly and allowed the nurse to lead him inside the maternity ward.

"He's such a sweetie - you really lucked out when you found him, you know?" she chattered. "Once he was feeling better, that is. When he doesn't feel good, he certainly has a mouth on him!"

"He was ill?"

"Sort of - oh, here we are now! You go on in, and if you boys need anything, my name is Josie."

Kurt thanked her, and she hurried back down the hall to her post. The door to 5115 was cracked open only about two inches, but it was enough for him to peek in and verify that the body in the bed did in fact belong to his Blaine. He rapped softly on the door and called, "Knock knock!" as he slid through the doorway.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered, his voice sounding groggy.

"Hi honey - care to explain?"

"Shhhh, please be quiet. You'll wake him."

"Him?"

Blaine nodded and shifted a bundle of blankets that was hidden by his side to his stomach.

"Um, Blaine? That's a baby," Kurt said dumbly.

Blaine nodded. He adjusted the swaddling blanket to uncover the face of a tiny, sleeping infant. "Our baby," he corrected. "Our _son._ "

"Our WHAT?!" Kurt squawked.

"SHHHHH!" The baby woke and began to scream. "Dammit, Kurt! I just got him to sleep!" Blaine rooted around in the blankets and came up with a pacifier that the hospital had given him and gently slid it into the baby's open mouth. He calmed at once, and his eyes drooped again in slumber.

"Oh thank god," Blaine said in relief. "That was the first time he had slept since he was born."

Kurt stared at Blaine in complete disbelief. He drew his phone out of his pocket and clicked onto his calendar. It was July, so an April Fools' joke was out.

"Blaine? Did I do something to piss you off? Because you've played jokes on me before, but this is beyond anything even Puck would come up with."

"Kurt," Blaine said. "This is no joke. This is one hundred percent real and happening to us right now. I gave birth to a child just a couple of hours ago. We are parents."

"But you're a guy!"

"Surprise?" Blaine shrugged his shoulders.

"I just... I can't believe..."

Blaine peeled down the blankets to reveal a large bandage covering his entire abdomen. He lifted up the edge of the adhesive gauze, and underneath it, Kurt saw the angry looking gash and black criss-cross stitches holding Blaine together.

Kurt was finally starting to accept that Blaine was telling the truth, though to him it seemed like it was something out of a science fiction novel. He dropped heavily into the chair that was next to Blaine's bed and began to rub his temples with his fingertips.

Kurt had one question. "How?"

"Well, Kurt, when two people love each other very much..." Blaine said with a wry smile.

"Oh hush, you. I mean - how can you be a guy and have a baby? How did we not notice something was up? I mean, that's not a huge baby you're holding, but you're also not a big guy. How did you hide that" he pointed at the baby "in YOU?"

Blaine took a breath. He shifted the baby, who was thankfully still contentedly sleeping, in his arms, and thought for a moment before he spoke.

"Well, the short answer for your first question is, science hasn't even figured it out yet. My doctor told me this has happened before, but rarely. I would assume there's a gene or mutation or something?"

Kurt nodded. He'd have to break out Google later.

"As far as how we didn't know... I've had a little bit of time to sit and think before you showed up, and the more I think about it, the more I realize I had the symptoms all along. They were very mild in comparison to what some people go through, but they were there."

"Oh right!" Kurt exclaimed. "I remember how tired you were back before Christmas. We thought it was Cassie July's booty camp."

"Yep. And all the aches and pains?"

"Also Cassie July's booty camp."

"And that time I was exploding at the mouth like Linda Blair?"

"I remember that. That was right at the time that major stomach bug struck down like half the campus. We just assumed..."

"I always did wonder how you, with the immune system as strong as lint, didn't come down with it even though you shared a bed with me."

"I wondered that myself," Kurt replied. "Not that I'm not glad you ended up not being contagious, but I was prepared - I dug out my bedazzled barf bucket and everything."

Blaine barked out a laugh. His movement jiggled his stitches. "Ouch, dammit."

"Careful, sweetie!" Kurt said, moving closer and taking Blaine's free hand.

Blaine gritted his teeth and lay still as he waited for the pain of moving to subside. When it leveled off, he slowly hissed out the breath he had been holding. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about that pooch I developed. I think Edward Scissorhands out there in surgery slashed it all up. And here we blamed it all on - "

"CRONUTS," Blaine and Kurt said together.

"I guess it was the baby that was demanding all those damn cronuts," Blaine mused.

"No, it was all you, mister. I'm pretty sure you would've been scarfing them down as if your life depended on it even if you hadn't had a little pastry-aholic growing in your adorable little tummy."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand tightly as they caught each other's gaze. They shared a few love-filled looks until they were interrupted by the soft whimpers of an awakening infant.

Blaine let go of Kurt's hand and snuggled the little bundle in his arms. "It looks like he's starting to wake up." The look of pure adoration on Blaine's face as he held the baby took Kurt's breath away.

"Kurt? Are you ready to meet our son?" Blaine asked softly.

"Our son... god, that's weird to say. Our _son_... yes, please."

Kurt stood and leaned over the bed to take the child from Blaine. Kurt had never really held a baby much - he didn't get to see Quinn's baby before she was adopted, and the last baby in his family was born when he was just ten - but he instinctively seemed to know what to do. He cradled the baby in his left arm, making sure the head was well supported, and his right hand stroked the soft skin of the child's exposed cheek. The baby just felt so _right_ in his arms.

"Kurt - you're glowing," Blaine observed.

"I - I," Kurt stuttered. He composed himself and tried again. "I didn't know I wanted this, Blaine. I took him in my arms, and I felt so... _complete._ "

Blaine sobbed, startling Kurt and the baby. Kurt shushed the baby gently and grabbed his boyfriend's hand again. "Blainey honey, what's wrong?"

"It's just... I was so scared you weren't going to want this," Blaine confessed. "I mean, these last twelve hours or so have been fucking WEIRD for me. You have some idea, but then, you also have _NO_ idea. But as soon as I woke up after the surgery and the nurse put this living, breathing, wiggling little being in my arms, I was done. I knew my journey's path had changed. I was just terrified that once you found out, you wouldn't want to walk it with me. That's part of the reason I didn't want to tell you what was going on over the phone - I was afraid you wouldn't come..."

"Oh Blaine, honey... here, hold him for a sec." Blaine took the baby back and nuzzled his nose against the baby's face. Kurt took the opportunity to oh so carefully crawl onto the bed alongside Blaine and gather him and the baby into his arms. He badly needed his boys close to him.

"Okay, so you're right. This is all pretty weird." Blaine glanced at him with a "duh" look on his face. "Okay, okay, it's just barely this side of batshit insane. Happy?" Kurt received a smirk in return. "All right, good. So anyway, it's weird. But it's not as if we haven't talked about the subject extensively before, right? You want kids, I want kids, and we wanted to have them together. Sure, we were going to wait, but life obviously had other plans for us. And I am _so_ okay with that, Blaine. SO okay. What a gift for us to be able to create life _together_ \- a little bit of you and a little bit of me? I'm in awe.

"I am so in love with you, Blaine. And I already love that baby with every ounce of my being. Hopefully your journey's path is wide enough for three 'cause I am going to be there every single step of the way." He took Blaine's hand and drew it to his chest, placing it just over his heart. "I promise you."

"God, I love you so much," Blaine said tearily.

"I love you, too. And I love you, little man, whatever your name is," Kurt said, addressing the baby, who was staring blearily in Kurt's general direction. "What are we naming him?"

"Oh, gosh, I don't know! Do you have any family names you'd like to carry on?"

Kurt pondered the question, but he came up empty. "No, I don't think so. I mean, my dad is fabulous, but I don't think we need to continue the little rhyming names thing we've got going on. You?"

Blaine grimaced. "Definitely not."

The boys fell silent for a moment, watching their baby in pure awe.

"Oh wait, I've got it! Dominic!"

"That's really cute. Dominic Anderson-Hummel," Kurt tried out. "Yes, I like it. But where did it come from?"

Blaine giggled. "It's an alternate spelling of Dominique. And Dominique Ansel was the inventor of the Cronut!"

"Blaine Anderson, if you think we are naming our son after a pastry, you have another think coming!"

* * *

 _A/N:_ _ _I don't know the layout of Bellevue hospital. A bit of artistic license has been taken in this respect. And, of course, suspension of disbelief is always appreciated when reading about mpreg, 'cause, you know, fiction.  
__

 _Still trying to write, even though inspiration is not very plentiful lately. I've got a few things in the pipeline but they're coming very, very slowly. You should see them eventually. Thanks for keeping me on your author alerts!_


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